


Monsters

by Magellan88



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bucky Barnes Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Do not post to another site, Hurt Bucky Barnes, I'm Bad At Summaries, M/M, Marvel Universe, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:47:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21671191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magellan88/pseuds/Magellan88
Summary: Based on the song Monster by Shinedown. Bucky has been recovering on his own, but every night, a vision of Steve visits him and begs him to come home.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoy this, all comments and kudos are beyond appreciated

Good for you, you fooled everybody

Good for you, you fooled everyone

Good for you, now you're somebody

Good for you, you fooled everyone

Bucky sets the gun down, a breath leaving him as he finally relaxes. It's been months since he'd left him on that river bank in Washington. Yet somehow every night, he's there. In his head, and in his dreams. A vision as clear as anything could be, calling out to him. 

He yearns to go home, to the only home he could have now. But he's not done, not just yet. Just a few more. A few more bases and he'll be done. This has to be done. 

Looking over, he sees him once again. The tall, strong man where the smaller but just as strong man used to be.

Leave your weapon on the table

Wrapped in burlap, barely able

Don't get angry, don't discourage

Take a shot of liquid courage

Grabbing the pilfered flask and the headphones, he leaves. Heavy metal blasting in his ears as he storms the base. If he can't hear, they can't use the words and he'd rather go in with one sense down than risk falling into their hands again.

Downing the flask that never empties, he hums softly, a calm contrast to the screaming in his ears, in his head, and before his eyes. He's ruthless, all the rage of a caged animal released onto the people who'd hurt him. 

Taking out the very people who'd dared play god with his life. No one will ever do this again. Taking another drink from the flask that never seemed to empty but always kept him calm, he continues his hunt for every scientist, guard, and anyone else not brainwashed into working for this hellhole of an organization.

'Cause my monsters are real, and they're trained how to kill

And there's no comin' back and they just laughed at how I feel

And these monsters can fight, and they'll never say die

And there's no goin' back, if I get trapped I'll never heal

Yeah, my monsters are real 

He stumbles into the impossibly small apartment, ripping the mask from his face before falling to his knees with a sharp gasp. He'd done it, two more bases had been obliterated, files sent through their own server to the tower he'd infiltrated two nights after leaving Washington. 

It was agony, he slowly peels off the leather suit, hissing when it shifts his broken ribs. Feeling another presence, he looks up only to gasp at the image before him. It's been a long fight, but he takes solace in his presence "you're here. How?" He whispers, his voice a harsh gasp

Good for you, you hurt everybody

Good for you, you hurt everyone

Good for you, you love nobody

Good for you, you owe no on

"Bucky…" the man gasps, voice cracking as if broken.. "why do you have my picture?" 

"I don't know" he lies, it hurts, the words ripping through him like a razor blade. 

"That's a lie. You know me, this picture...this was taken from my room. From inside the tower." 

"Stevie…" he rasps, unsure where the name, uttered like a prayer had come from. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me this time." 

"I'm sorry Buck. But I'm not real. I'm in your head, a product of whatever is in that flask and the pain you're in." 

He looks down to the flask that had dropped on the floor, an intricate tree carved on it with the initials S.G.R engraved beneath it.

Leave your weapon on the table

Wrapped in burlap, barely able

Call a doctor, say a prayer

Choose a god you think is there

Another day, another base. He's been doing better, less reliant on the flask to sleep and cope, though he still saw the man from the bridge, _ Steve, _his mind now corrected him. But it was happening less. It really only happened when he'd pushed himself too far. He was healing, slowly, but still healing.

But the monsters were still there in his dreams. They still greeted him in the night when he was vulnerable to his subconscious, faces of people he didn't fully remember, always asking him why.

'Cause my monsters are real, and they're trained how to kill

And there's no comin' back and they just laughed at how I feel

And these monsters can fight, and they'll never say die

And there's no goin' back, if I get trapped I'll never heal

'Cause my monsters are real 

Bucky stumbles from the claiming wreckage of the base, he'd done it, the last base he knew of, the last chair used to destroy him, had been destroyed, blown to pieces. But he'd gone too far, relying heavily on his metal arm and body armor to protect him through the massive base. 

He stumbles before falling to his knees, the snow beneath him slowly turning red with blood dripping from the wound on his side, his fingers no longer sufficient to hold the wound closed. 

Just as he's about to pass out from the blood loss, he hears something above him and looks up, vision swimming before he manages to focus on the red and gold armor of Ironman as he lands. 

The faceplate flips up to reveal Tony himself, arms crossing over his chest as he sighs dramatically "ok, I've tried to let you do your thing, manchurian candidate, but I've had enough. I can only handle one dramatic old fart with a death wish at a time. And that position is filled already. Are you ready to come home so I can stop having to Steve stare pensively into his sketchbook?" 

He opens and closes his mouth a few times before shaking his head to clear it "h-have you seen my-" 

"Your files? Yeah. Cap finally pulled his head out of his ass for a brief moment to let me know you killed my parents. I won't lie, I was angry, but I'm dealing with it and I refuse to blame you. So answer the question, tin man." 

He nods softly "y-yeah...I'm ready. I wanna come home." His voice is rough, shaky from blood loss but fully sincere. No explanation necessary that while his physical home is long gone, home is a man with sky blue eyes and charcoal in his fingertips. 

Leave your weapon on the table

Wrapped in burlap, barely able

Don't get angry, don't discourage

Take a shot of liquid courage

Leave a light on if you're able

'Cause we both know you're unstable

Call a doctor, say a prayer

Choose a god you think is there

It was nearly midnight by the time Tony's patched him up and flown the quinjet back to the tower but Steve's awake. Awake and pacing the floor nervously after being told by F.R.I.D.A.Y. that Tony had taken the jet and was bringing someone in. 

It's as if the air is punched from his when the door opens and Tony comes down the ramp, stumbling slightly beneath the weight of the man on his shoulder. 

Before he's even processed the sight before him, Steve's rushing forward to take the weight of his friend, lifting him carefully into his arms before heading to his room. It's a strange sight to see the former sniper turned brainwashed assassin curling up and tucking his face into his friends neck before letting out a shaky sob. Steve's arms tightening. 

Monsters are real, there's no doubt in Steve's mind as he carefully rids Bucky of his tattered uniform, snorting when he finds the flask and picture that had gone missing from this very room so long ago. 

He sets both aside and curls around his friend, arms tight and fingers laced with his as Bucky falls into a blessedly dreamless sleep. 

"Stevie...I missed you. You haunting me isn't the same as you holding me." 

Steve snorts "well I'm never letting you go again Bucky. I'm with us til the end of the line." The vow is whispered against the bare skin of his shoulder, and he can feel the sleepy smile blooming even though he can't see his face. They're safe, they can rest. 

And they do.


End file.
